


I Don't Care If You're Contagious (I Would Kiss You)

by starrywrite



Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mild Angst, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywrite/pseuds/starrywrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based off of Dan’s video I NEARLY DIED (not). </p>
<p>The joys of Flucloxacillin and Dan’s other miscellanious adventures when his stomach infection turns out to be something more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Care If You're Contagious (I Would Kiss You)

**Author's Note:**

> probably one of the most cliched and overused plots in the history of phanfic but idc because i love sick fics a lot!! 
> 
> i can’t think of any tws for this… i’m pretty sure everyone knows the story behind the video but in case you don’t: dan gets sick and ends up in the hospital but all is well in the end :^)
> 
> and remember, even though this is based off of IRL situations, this is a work of fiction :^)
> 
> i hope everyone enjoys this ^_^

Dan’s dying.

Or at least, he feels like he’s dying right now. 

He can’t remember the last time he felt this horrible, and he comes to the conclusion that if he’s ever felt _this_ horrible before, he had to have blocked it out from his memory. He’s only been sick for about a week and even though his doctor said that he only has an infection, he’s pretty sure his infection has escalated into the Black Plague and Flucloxacillin isn’t doing jack shit to make him feel better.

He pulls his duvet up over his shoulders because he’s freezing, despite the fact that he’s sweating bullets, but he can’t seem to get comfortable; his uni bed is too hard and so uncomfortable and he hasn’t been able to sleep for hours now – it feels like days though. He’s exhausted and all he wants to do is sleep for about a month, and aside from the fact that he’s been tossing and turning in his bed, his stomach is in knots. It feels like someone’s taken a knife and has decided to stab him repeatedly in his abdomen and he kind of wants to cry because it hurts so much.

Sighing heavily when he realizes that he isn’t going to get any sleep for the day, he reaches for his cell phone and sends a text to Phil, _‘can I come over? :(‘_. Maybe at Phil’s apartment he’ll get some sleep, and there’s no point in him hanging out in at university if he isn’t attending his classes – which he hasn’t for the past week because it’s been a struggle just to get out of bed lately.

Phil texts back immediately; _‘of course bear. I’ll call a cab and come pick you up’_. Dan thanks him and rolls over, struggling to get up out of bed and put on a pair of shoes so he’s ready for whenever Phil arrives. It takes him much longer than he anticipates, because even the slightest movements cause him ample amounts of pain. He wraps an arm around his abdomen and forces himself up to his feet, but he ends up crying out in pain and dropping to his knees on the floor, exhaling sharply. Tears sting at his eyes and he ends up just lying on his floor until Phil shows up at his dorm.

He hears his door creak open, but he can’t be bothered to get up - or even turn his head in the direction of the door, despite the fact that the carpet rubbing against his nose is very irritating - and he hears Phil exclaim, “Oh my gosh, Dan!”

In seconds, his boyfriend is at his side, and Dan rolls over so he’s lying on his back, bringing his knees up so his feet are flat against the ground because for some reason, that’s a position that hurts the least. “I’m not dead.” he reassures Phil. “Kind of wish I was, but I’m not yet.”

Phil reaches out and muses his hair back, feeling his forehead in the process. “You still feel warm,” he says. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a fever.”

“I’m pretty sure my fever never went away.” Dan replies.

Phil frowns. “Well, don’t you worry now.” he says. “I’ll take care of you.” Phil stands up and extends his arm out towards Dan. “C’mon, the cab’s waiting outside.”

“I can’t get up.” Dan moans, and he turns to look at Phil with the most pathetic look on his face that he can muster up. “Carry me?” he asks.

Phil doesn’t roll his eyes or protest in any way; he just scoops Dan up, apologizing when Dan lets out a pained whimper, and he holds onto him tightly as he carries him out of his dorm and outside to their taxi.

* * *

The only perk of being sick is having Phil take care of him, and not in an “I need you to wait on me hand and foot” type of way; it’s just nice having someone around who genuinely cares that he’s ill at the moment and is willing to do things like fetch him some water or help get him comfortable and situated in bed. 

Phil carries him out of the cab, though this time Dan protests a bit, insisting that he can walk, and then brings him up to his flat. “When did you get this strong?” Dan asks jokingly.

“Haven’t you heard? I’ve started weightlifting.” Phil jokes back, and Dan laughs a little, then moans in pain because laughing hurts. “Is it still your stomach that’s bothering you?” Phil asks him. When Dan nods, he says, “Maybe we should bring you back to the doctor’s. Or take you to another for a second opinion.” 

“I don’t want to go to the doctor’s again.” Dan whines, completely aware of the fact that he sounds like a child right now but he dreads going to the doctor’s - it’s cold and the wait is always long and he hates being put on the spot because his mind blanks and he forgets what’s actually wrong with him in the first place. “I think I just need some proper rest in a bed that doesn’t feel like lying on padded bricks.” he tells Phil. 

Phil chuckles a little. “If you insist.” he says, but his tone is thick with “I sure hope you’re right about this” and he carries Dan to his bedroom, helping him get situated on Phil’s bed.. 

Dan feels like he’s lying on a cloud, which is a big step up from lying on padded bricks in his dorm room, and he sighs happily, closing his eyes and mumbling, “Thank you.” to Phil as he pulls his duvet up over him.

Phil leans down and places a kiss on Dan’s forehead. “Feel better, bear.” he says, and that’s the last thing Dan hears before he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

Dan wakes up hours later and he feels like he’s just woken up from a coma; he’s disoriented and confused, and it’s dark in Phil’s room so he can barely get a grasp on where he actually is. He goes to sit up, but there’s a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach that causes him to cry out in pain and lie back down immediately. 

He lets out a slow exhale, closing his eyes tightly and biting his lip to keep from yelling out in pain once more. His stomach is killing him, it feels like someone's taken a knife to his abdomen and is stabbing him repeatedly. Maybe Phil was right; maybe he should go to the doctor.

He blindly slaps at Phil's dresser, trying to find his phone and when he does he sees that it's half past 11. He weighs the pros and cons, yes he's feeling poorly and he does need medical attention but if he tells Phil he isn't feeling well, Phil will insist on taking him to A&E and he _really_ does not want to go to A &E. Surely he'll be fine until morning - right? 

There's another stab of pain in his stomach, and this time it feels like the knife is being twisted and he almost can't breathe, it hurts so bad. Tears start to sting at his eyes and he realizes that no, he can't hold on till morning. 

“Phil!” he cries out as loudly as he can’t, which truth be told isn’t that loud at all, but he hopes that Phil can hear him regardless. “Phil!” he exhales sharply, wincing at the pain in his stomach that isn’t seeming to go away, not even for a second, and he shouts once more, “Phil!” 

Within seconds, Phil’s rushing into his room, and he’s on the bed, at Dan’s side moments later. “What is it, what’s wrong?” he asks breathlessly, reaching out and placing his palm across Dan’s forehead. “Dan, you’re burning up.” he says, his eyes going wide. “Is it your stomach again? Are you okay?”

Dan shakes his head. “No.” he whimpers, rolling over so he’s lying on his side but even that position is causing him pain. “Phil, it hurts.”

“Do you you think we should take you to A&E?” Phil asks him.

Dan wants to protest; he doesn’t want to go to A&E, he wants all of this to go away on its own, he wants to be fine. But the truth is, he’s not fine at all and _now_ he’s pretty sure that he’s dying. “Yes.” he says softly.

“Okay.” Phil exhales, and he nods to himself, reaching for his phone in his pocket and he tells Dan, “I’m going to call a cab, and then we’ll go to the hospital, okay?” Dan just nods, and Phil takes one of his hands, kissing his knuckles as the phone rings. When he gets word that the cab is on its way, as quickly as possible, Phil helps Dan into a shirt before scooping him up into his arms once more. Dan wraps his arms around Phil’s shoulders and he holds onto him tightly, pressing his face against Phil’s shoulder and biting his lip, trying not to make a fuss because he doesn’t want Phil to worry about him any more than he already is - but _god_ , is he in pain. He’s never experienced pain like this before; it feels like his entire body is on fire and he isn’t sure if that’s because he’s most definitely running a fever right now or if it because of the fiery pain in his stomach, but he just wants it all stop. He almost can’t breathe with how badly it hurts and with every breath he takes, it’s like a punch to his abdomen. A tear rolls down his cheek and he can’t believe he’s been reduced to tears right now, he honestly feels so pathetic right now, crying because of a stomachache. 

Phil kisses the top of his head as he carries him outside of his flat, and he tells him, “You’re going to be okay, bear.”

* * *

Dan and Phil sit close together in the cab, Dan curled up into himself as he rests his head against Phil’s shoulder. Phil types out a tweet - _:( @danisnotonfire really isn’t feeling good now so taking him to A &E. Send him love!_ \- and then pockets his phone all of his attention focused on Dan. He kisses the younger boy’s temple and whispers sweet nothings to him, reassuring him that he’s going to be just fine. 

When they arrive to the hospital, Phil carries Dan inside and Dan doesn’t even protest this time when Phil picks him up this time. The receptionist takes one look at Dan before she informs them that he’ll be seen by a doctor as soon as one is available and in the meantime for them to fill out some forms. Phil takes the papers and Dan over to the waiting room and he gets Dan settled into one of the hard, plastic chairs and he sits down next to him. 

Dan pulls his knees up to chest and leans against Phil again. “Phil it hurts.” he whines. 

Phil kisses his head once more. “I know, bear.” he tells him. “But it’s going to be okay; you’re going to get better soon.” 

Dan whines again, and for a second Phil considers that he might be starting to feel better because there’s no denying that Dan whines _a lot_ when he’s sick. “I want to go home.” he says. 

“I’m sorry, you can’t.” Phil tells him. He disregards the forms for a moment because they can wait, and he turns to face Dan, hugging him and pulling him in close to him. 

Dan cuddles against Phil best he can, despite the fact that they’re both in separate chairs, and he rests his head against the crook of Phil’s neck. “I want to die in the privacy of your bedroom.” he says. 

Phil sighs. “Bear, you aren’t going to die.” he says simply. At least he’s accepted the fact that he’s fallen in love with a drama queen. 

“I already am dying though.” Dan moans. 

“No.” Phil says. “Aside from the fact that I’m not going to let you die, I highly doubt that you’re so sick that you’re fatal.” 

Dan tilts his head back so he’s looking at Phil now. “I love you.” he says, and Phil smiles a little at him, his heart flipping like it does whenever Dan tells him that he loves him. Before he can reply, Dan says, “I want you to have my videos games.”

Phil rolls his eyes. “You aren’t going to die!” he says.

“I told you, I already _am_ dying!” Dan replies, and if he wasn’t in so much pain already, Phil would push Dan to the floor - or maybe just stop hugging him for the time being. 

“Dan!” he groans. 

Dan moans again, arms wrapped around his stomach and he presses his face against Phil’s collarbones. “I see the light.”

“Is it bright?” Phil asks dryly. 

“How can you joke when I’m on my deathbed?” Dan asks him. 

“You aren’t on your deathbed!” Phil groans again. 

“I’m sorry, do you have a medical degree?” Dan asks him and before Phil can answer, he continues, “No, you don’t. So you don’t know that I’m not dying.” 

Phil rolls his eyes again. “You’re lucky I love you.” he mumbles under his breath. But no matter how much he loves Dan, if he says one more time that he’s dying, he’s going to roll up these hospital forms and smack him in the head with them. 

Dan looks around the hospital waiting room. “Well,” he says softly in a voice meant only for Phil to hear. “If whatever’s wrong with my stomach doesn’t kill me, someone in this waiting room will.”

Phil stifles a laugh. “Dan.” is all he can manage because part of him wants to berate Dan for making comments on the other occupants in the waiting room - but Dan’s right. The people in here are looking pretty… well, scary. 

“It’s like hanging out with the cast of Shameless.” Dan continues, his voice sounds weak though - even a bit strained, as if he’s forcing himself to keep up the charade. “And then there’s us with our matching haircuts and skinny jeans - someone is going to shank us.” this time, Phil can’t hold back a laugh; he covers his mouth in hopes of not attracting any attention. Dan moans a little. “I feel like I’m being shanked already.” he says, sighing and closing his eyes. “My stomach really hurts, Phil.” he mumbles, all traces of joking gone from his tone and Phil frowns.

“I know, bear.” he says and kisses Dan’s head. “Don’t worry, a doctor is going to see you soon, I’m sure of it.” Dan just moans once again in response, but he falls silent after that, but it makes Phil start to worry - when Dan can joke around or at least bitch and moan, Phil knows he isn’t _that_ ill. But the fact that he’s been reduced to silence makes Phil nervous. 

Finally, a doctor is available to see Dan, and after talking to him for a few minutes and gets a grasp on the situation, Phil scoops Dan up and follows his doctor to an exam room, apologizing as he picks Dan up when the brunette boy whimpers in pain. Phil already feels less tense knowing that Dan is finally getting the medical attention he needs, but part of him is still concerned; what if this doctor says the same thing as Dan’s first doctor? Or worse - what if something is really wrong with Dan? What if Phil was wrong before and Dan actually _is_ fatal? He nearly drops Dan at the thought of that, but he assures himself that he’s just overreacting. Dan is going to be fine.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Dan’s doctor to tell him that he has appendicitis, and he’s lucky he arrived when he did because putting this off could’ve caused his appendix to rupture - the statement alone makes Dan and Phil’s faces pale with terror. Dan’s surgery won’t be until tomorrow and before either of them know it, Dan’s being situated in a hospital room for an overnight stay. 

Phil helps him get comfortable under the uncomfortable hospital sheets and he kisses his forehead, sensing that he’s a bit scared right now. “Do you want me to run back to my house and get you anything?” he asks. “Some magazines, your bear?” 

Dan shakes his head. “Just stay, please?” he asks timidly.

Phil smiles at him reassuringly and kisses his forehead again. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.” he tells him. He asks Dan to move over, and Dan complies, wincing as he does so, and Phil climbs into his hospital bed. He wraps an arm around Dan’s shoulders and Dan rests his head on Phil’s chest, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. Maybe this won’t be as bad as he thought; he’s got Phil, some crappy magazines from the waiting room, and if a nurse gives him some medicine maybe he’ll be able to sleep through the night for the first time in a week. A small smile tugs at his lips. Yeah, maybe this could a pretty comfy and enjoyable night -

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.”

Dan and Phil both glance up, looking over at the guy lying opposite of Dan. He’s got a blank stare on the ceiling and with every breath he takes, he utters, “Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.”

Dan looks over at Phil, not saying anything, just a look of ‘what the fuck?’ on his face, and all Phil can do is shrug in response. “Don’t worry; I brought headphones.” he says softly.

* * *

Dan has his surgery the next day, and Phil sits in the waiting room for the duration for it, even though it only takes about ten minutes for the doctors to fix him up and just as soon as it starts, Dan’s back into his hospital bed, barely conscious and Phil’s sat by his side, brushing his hair out of his eyes (he really needs a haircut already). “How are you feeling?” Phil asks him softly. Dan mumbles something incoherent and Phil chuckles a bit. “Go to sleep, bear.” he says. “You’ll feel better once you wake up.”

Dan nods a bit, and in seconds, he’s fast asleep, and Phil continues to run his fingers through his hair as he sleeps, his chest rising and falling a bit, and for the first time in a week, he actually looks rested and relaxed. 

Phil takes out his phone and snaps a picture of Dan while he sleeps; he tells himself it’s so he can tweet it later to inform everyone that Dan is a-okay, but he keeps it to himself because his boyfriend is just about the cutest thing - even when he is sick as a dog.

* * *

Hours later, Dan wakes up and he’s given a dose of morphine to help with the pain but for whatever reason, it doesn’t exactly kick in during the first few hours. “ _Phiiiiiiiiiiil!_ ” the low moan turned to whine escapes Dan’s lips for the umpteenth time and he rolls over to bury his face into his pillows. “Hurts!” 

Phil reaches out to plays with his hair - a go-to technique to calm him down. “I know bear, just be patient.” he says. “The morphine should kick in any minute now.” Except Phil’s kind of been telling him that for a while and it’s still yet to kick in.

“You said ‘any minute now’ two hours ago.” Dan tells him, and Phil swears under his breath; he was hoping Dan wouldn’t realize that. “D’you think I can ask for more?” he asks Phil.

Phil shrugs. “I don’t see why not.” he tells him, so Dan calls for his nurse and asks for more morphine, which he receives. And truth be told, Phil is a bit excited to see Dan on morphine; he’s seen many people’s “after the dentist” videos, after they’ve gotten their wisdom teeth removed, and he’s kind of got a guilty pleasure for people who act silly and say ridiculous thing - it entertains him for hours on end. So yes, Dan on morphine is currently on his list of things he wants to see. Maybe he should video tape it…

However, apparently Dan has the circulatory system of a sloth made out of butter because the morphine still isn’t working. Aside from the fact that it’s not making him act silly, it isn’t helping with his pain, so he keeps asking for more, and more, and more. 

Eventually he ends up getting as much morphine that can be legally administered. 

Needless to say, Dan’s morphine trip isn’t something worth documenting; when it all hits him, he kind of just… lies there. Limp. He struggles to lift his head up and his eyes keep going crossed, and after a few seconds of that, he just drops back down against his pillows, and his nurse has to keep a close watch on him for the rest of the day just to make sure that nothing’s going to go wrong. And nothing does go wrong, Dan’s just really unresponsive for the next couple of hours and even though he does nothing video worthy, Phil’s just glad he’s okay.

* * *

A few days pass before Dan’s discharged from the hospital and Phil carries him out to the cab the same way he carried him when he picked him up from his dorm. Dan’s barely conscious, struggling to stay awake despite the fact that Phil keeps telling him to just go to sleep, and he snuggles in as close to Phil as he can, burying his face against the crook of Phil’s neck and Phil kisses the top of his head while they sit in the cab together. “Where are we going?” Dan mumbles to him because he may be a bit out of it, but he’s definitely aware of the fact that he’s not going back to his dorm room right now.

“Home.” is all Phil says, and when the cab finally comes to a stop, the two of them are at Phil’s flat. Phil helps Dan up to his room and he gets him situated in Phil’s bed, pulling the covers up over him and tucking him in, kissing his forehead. “I thought you’d be more comfortable here than at your dorm.” he explains to him. 

“Thank you.” Dan mumbles sleepily, his eyes already drifting shut. The doctors had him on a shitload of medicine before he left, and they all seem to be catching up to him at once. Phil kisses his forehead once more and goes to get up so he can get some rest, when Dan catches his wrist and says, “Stay please?” 

Phil smiles at him. “Of course, bear.” Dan scootches over a bit and Phil climbs into bed with him, wrapping his arms around the younger boy and holding him close. “Do you feel any better?” he asks.

“Loads.” Dan says. “Thanks to you.” and granted, it’s probably thanks to all the medication he’s on but nevertheless, it makes Phil smile to hear that and he kisses Dan’s head and cuddles him while he falls asleep. He listens to the way Dan’s breathing changes as he falls asleep, and he exhales a sigh of relief. The worst is finally over, and Dan’s “stomach infection that wasn’t actually an infection” misadventure is finally coming to an end.


End file.
